


Where's Wolverine When You Need Him?

by T Verano (t_verano)



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: I don't know Deadpool as well as I'd like to, I made up a mutant so there could be time travel, Jim and Blair never actually participate in this fic, M/M, Oh yeah - time travel between the first Deadpool movie and Jim and Blair in the 1990s, mention (probably uncanonical) of several MCU and DC characters, what fourth wall?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-07 21:16:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20823926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t_verano/pseuds/T%20Verano
Summary: Deadpool happens. Fresh (and yes, we mean *fresh*) from his 2016 movie, or something like that, and locked and loaded to try to cart a sentinel and his sidekick back to the future.(There are notes. They say disclaimery things. In my defense... no, okay. There probablyisno defense for this fic. :-))





	Where's Wolverine When You Need Him?

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, well. I was fooling around with the Sentinel Thursday "cascade" prompt and this -- inexplicably -- happened. It's way more Deadpool than TS, however.
> 
> I'm far from a Deadpool expert; I mostly know the character from the first Deadpool movie and a few fanfics, so there's probably a *lot* of comics-canon I'm screwing up. And possibly other MCU/DC canon I'm screwing up too. I have the impression from somewhere, for instance, that Deadpool isn't best buds with Professor Xavier, but I could be totally wrong here. Also, I made up a mutant, because time travel needed to be a thing to get this particular Deadpool from 2016 or so back to the 90's.
> 
> Also, THERE IS NO LOGIC HERE. None. Nada. Zero. Zip. Just roll with it, 'kay?
> 
> And one last thing: breaking the fourth wall is, like, crack. Or really good sex. Or getting to binge-watch every episode of The Great British Baking Show. Seriously. _Addictive,_

Well, hello there. Welcome to the roof. My home-away-from-home, my _pied-a-_not-so-_terre, _my airbnb without the b. Or the other b. Ima call it my airCPD. See what I did there? We're on the _roof _of the _Cascade Police Department _building: air_CPD, _people. Keep up.

Wait, what? You don't know who I am? Don't feel bad, boys and girls; that's because I'm from the future. Ta da! 

You don't believe me? See what happens to _you _twenty years from now when some old, bald, creepy mindfucker gets a twitchy teenage mutant _time_fucker to shoot you back a couple of decades; kind of like unexpiring that carton of yogurt at the back of your fridge you keep conveniently forgetting to have for breakfast, so you can actually eat it without spending the rest of the day in the bathroom shitting your guts out. Okay, okay, not like that at all, shut up. 

Where was I? Oh, right. Me. Well, my little 90's friends, this flatteringly form-fitting costume may make me look like a superhero, but really? I'm just a merc. You can call me Deadpool. I do death. Sometimes the other guy's, sometimes mine, but that's life, amirite? I'm not actually here to kill anybody, though. That bald old creepy mindfucker, remember him? He thinks there's a superhero waiting in the wings, underneath this very roof. 

Psst, I think he's kinda right. I mean, the guy would _rock _the flatteringly form-fitting spandex and he's got that clenched-jaw, steely-eyed Captain America vibe going, Marvel _never _gets enough of that, and from this roof right here? he goes _mano a mano _with a big bad scary helicopter and wins. Jumps off bridges onto road-racing buses. You know the type. So he isn't faster than a speeding bullet and doesn't drive a batmobile -- I know, I know, that's DC, not Marvel -- but the guy does have super senses. He sees, hears, smells -- I bet _that's _gotta be a giant pain in the ass -- tastes, _everything, _like some kind of superserum-ed Sense-O-Matic on steroids.

Oooh, and the best part? Can we spell sidekick? Plucky little shit who goes around with hearts in his eyes, providing aid and comfort and that ever-important _soupcon _of snark to our hero. If those two aren't holding hands at recess and borrowing each other's bubble gum, the Iron Man suit doesn't have a built-in fondle-those-bad-boys feature.

Come on, have you _met _Tony Stark?

So why am I here, anyway? *Sigh.* The franchise gods want them. Something about 'an everyday, everyman super for the real world,' yadda yadda. It's not exactly 'everyday, every man' if every man can't smell a bee fart on the other side of the mountain and tell you what kind of honey the bee's packing, if you ask me, but not too many people ask me anything. _Looos_-ers. 

Anyhoo, somebody puts together a focus group twenty years in the future from this little tete-a-tete we're having right now, and all those focusers demand their _Super Sentinel _franchise, and here I am. Turns out Captain Stars-Stripes-and-Spangles is busy saving the planet and Spidey is busy saving Queens (and for _DC, _the epic tragedy of it all) and, well, Wolverine. Wolverine probably isn't _busy, _but nobody wants to see _that _shitshow hit the fan. 

And Creepy Bald Guy doesn't actually like me, for some reason. 

So, my attentive audience, _I _got the short straw and get to be the one to put the moves on our prospective new dynamic duo. MCU-o. Sidekicks are the best, seriously. Why don't I have a sidekick? 

Wait, don't answer that.

But look, bribes! I mean, who wouldn't want an iPhone, right? Unless you're Stark, but StarkPhones don't grow on trees, people. Our dynamic duo is gonna be bowled away by the video capabilities, the Google Maps, the Grindr app! Have you _seen _the phones they cart around? I'm embarrassed for them.

The future has so much to offer our impending friends. How can they possibly say no to paleo-vegan lasagna? The Kardashians? Accelerated global warming? The deals they can cut with the studio; I mean, the Marvel Cinematic Universe is _rolling _in it. These two play their cards right, they're set for life. Which could be, like, forever, since as long as you sell, you'll keep on keeping on in the MCU. Sure, you might die horrifically, but some version of you will be back, scarred and touchingly broken but compellingly irresistible in your newly redesigned badass-motherfuckery.

Talk about timing; here come our soon-to-be BFFs now! What do you want to bet Mr. I Hear Better Than A Speeding Bat _heard _us chatting from all the way downstairs and came up -- complete with Sidekick! -- to see if we need shooting?

Side note: do you think I can call him Jimichanga? I think I should call him Jimichanga. Jimichanga, Jimichanga, Jimichanga. Which reminds me, I could use some lunch, could you use some lunch? 

No? 

Huh. Well, in that case: now entering stage left we have Jimichanga and...okay, sorry, I've got nothing. Blair may be the salsa to Jimi's changa, but seriously, I have nowhere to go with that name. Except it does rhyme with 'pair' -- Blair With A Pair? Kind of a mouthful, hmm?

Okay, peeps, _poll! _Should Jimichanga shoot me? Fatally, I mean? Nothing says "Welcome To The Comics, Guys," like watching your spandex-sporting shootee regrow his brain after you've shot half his skull off. I mean, it _sells, _right? Hurts like a mother, but if you think I should do it...

Oops, poll over, inconclusive, your bad; because heeeerre's Jimi! And Blair With A Pair! 

"Hi, guys! Wanna come to the future and repeatedly save fucktons of hapless human beings from disturbingly bizarre villains while refusing to use plastic straws? It'll be fun!"

"...No? But there's gay marriage! And Harry Potter! Hipsters!"

"...Still no? The Cubs win the Series -- tell me that's not a game-changer right there! Wait -- you can't say no to _Netflix! _\--"


End file.
